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I'm soooooooo tired of the mantra repeated ad nauseum that taking down statues that represent individuals who participated in attempted rebellion against the United States is somehow "destroying history." Statues do not create or destroy history. History books are not suddenly being rewritten to forget about the traitorous actions of Jefferson Davis, Nathan Bedford Forrest, Robert E. Lee, Alexander Stephens, Stonewall Jackson, and the rest of the defenders of Southern slavery. Statues merely represent how we choose to honor those individuals. Since - stated in the most generous way I can muster - the leaders of southern secession were at best mistaken, misguided and on the wrong side of justice, there's really no need to have said statues honoring them. You want to learn about them? Why not pick up a book or read an online article? Want to pay your respects? Go to a museum or visit a civil war-era cemetery.

I know some of this opinion piece used some "tongue-in-cheek" humor to make a point. But let me get serious for a second, building on a couple of things offered above, and tempered by my experiences both as a man, AND as a person who has worked his entire life combating sexual harassment and other forms of unlawful discrimination:

1. "...you might be one of the 'good guys'..." There are no such creatures. Every man - EVERY MAN (yes, I am including myself) - is capable of committing acts of sexual harassment and gender discrimination. Circumstances change, intents change, but ALL are capable. The trick is committing and re-committing, consciously and each and every day, to not do this. To be mindful of how we affect and impact others. To choose not to hurt someone else, or at least be thoughtless. Being a man means taking individual responsibility for the patriarchal society that we benefit from, and now with women must be responsible for changing. That doesn't make us good guys; it's the bare minimum we should be doing.

2. There are many men who will definitely respond to the current revelations by retreating from women. There are male-dominated businesses who will let such bias affect their hiring and retention decisions. A better person might try to reason with you about why that is a short-sided and hurtful approach. I will not. Actions such as those, if they harm a working woman or one seeking employment, are unlawful. I, as one among many, commit to holding those who do so accountable to the fullest extent of the law. If you hurt others by using gender discrimination in a misguided attempt to protect yourself or your business, you will be caught and punished.

3. "...Give me a hug!..." Even better; don't demand a hug or other physical contact, even if done in a "friendly" manner. ASK. "Can I have a hug?" or "May I give you a hug?" is far better than something at work that could be interpreted as a command, especially from a supervisor.

I know this was a long diatribe. I apologize for that. But honestly, I'm both professionally and personally sick to death of all of the excuses I've heard from countless sexually harassing men (and 4 women) I've dealt with for the last 20+ years.

Uhm. Yeah. Chris isn't going to do that. Continuing his mocking bullet style from the article:

- Reading is hard. Even when there's lots of pictures. This is why he reviews movies.
- He's clearly not a "fan" and never will be. "Source material" isn't relevant to film critics generally, and this one specifically.
- Instead of giving a thoughtful and reasoned critique like a responsible journalist - even a film critic - would do, he just takes "pot shots" using this bullet style, and then blames the film for inviting such a horrid and virtually meaningless writing style, unwilling to take responsibility for his own poor analysis (Cavill is "the worst"...reasons please?, etc.). Hey! Just like I'm doing back at him! Difference is, of course, I'm not a film critic, and am not a paid employee of the otherwise thoughtful and deliberative Memphis Flyer.

My mother had the misfortune of being born in Poland in 1938. Hidden by Ukranian nuns as a favor to her father, she survived the Holocaust by changing her name and pretending to be Catholic. Miraculously, her mother and her uncle survived as well. She has never met, never seen, the father who arranged to have her saved. He and everyone else were wiped out. To this day, my mother cannot look at any symbols of naziism. As the child of a Holocaust survivor, I am the reverse; I cannot look away. I confront it at every turn. I have lost people who I thought were friends because of anti-Semitism. Professionally, I joined a line of work that allows me to confront racism, sexism, ethnocentrism, and all the products of fear and hate on a regular basis, in ways that occur both subtle and blatant. I have tried very hard to live by the words "never again."

I have tried never to give in to violence. I am ashamed that, in my youth, I briefly flirted with the Jewish Defense League, a group back then that was only too willing to engage in offense against those they believed were a threat, like the Skinhead. I learned firsthand about the costs of violence. I buried that down, and hoped - believed - that the need for literally combating hate on the streets instead of in our workplaces and courtrooms (where it should be) would never come again to my doorstep, advocated by public institutions or officials bestowed with the public trust. I convinced myself that, no matter our political persuasions, hate and fear-mongering would remain on the shadowy fringes of society.

But I, and all of us, are going to be tested as this resurgence of old fears and hates - packaged anew - continues to grow. Like you, I will not be silent, and I will not stand aside. Like you, I too live on a street with neighbors I care about that could be in any town, anywhere in the US. And, if the time does come, like you, I too own a tire iron.

Danzo, I can personally vouch for the brisket at Elwood's Shack...especially the brisket breakfast burrito. I've eaten like five times in the last 30 days. My treadmill hates me.

Also had it at Stanley's, and they know what they're doing too, as the article describes. Plus, it's a little personal for me...my Dad was named Stanley too and also died at a similar time of year... Dec. 19. And he loved brisket (and didn't touch pork)!